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Yes, but—Indarin, there are people coming. Coming across the mountains. Any tangible evidence, sir? she asks, a note of caution in her voice. Any actual bodies? Im really pleased youre not dead, says Snowdrop, earnestly. I dont know what happened. I can’t remember. But I know it was you. You and me. You’re my favourite. My best. Ariah laughed softly.Not the reaction of a warrior, Jeren. And yet…perhaps, the right one. For you at least. What do you want? Morning, Kitten, starts Rowan, largely for his own pleasure. Thats a wonderfully literary outfit, you temptress. Fifty Shades of …., All too clearly she heard her heart beating while he spoke. It echoed through her head as Fethans silky voice wrapped itself around her. Words fell through her mind—Shans words of love and trust, Gilliads words of hate and possession—but Fethan’s words threatened to drown them all out. She gazed into his eyes, his handsome, placid face, and caught a brief glimpse of another future, filled with calm restraint and the wonders of magic. I think its a bit like hypnotism, muses Catherine. Hell probably give another talk about it soon. You can hear it, if you come to the school. If I were a better liar, Id tell you I had. He turned onto the road that would lead to his subdivision. You sure youre ready for this? Theyre going to be vicious. He parked behind a cruiser. Im Vicky, she says, raising her voice. Do you need a lift somewhere? Ive got a house to do down at Ravenglass but the lady isnt back until tea-time so it’s not a bother. Vickis picture, setting behind the group and patiently waiting for further work, was a self-portrait. A house, Vickis home Samara presumed, stood in the sun. With the viewpoint from the garden, with various colourful flowers blossoming around the edge of the canvas, you could see through an open window to the young woman sitting painting inside. Seated before an easel and canvas, the girl stared back at the viewer through the window, creating the illusion that the real Vicki and her rendered counterpart were capturing each other. Samara had overheard her classmate refer to the piece asPerception, a title that Miss Jones had fawned over. Technically the piece was sound, but what did it have to say? It had all the depth of…well… Samaras father spoke in her head, just in from work and sat in front of the television.A nice bowl of fruit. Something natural. As she could? Snowdrop, energetically does as shes told. She stops three digits from the end. Thats Mums number, she says, suspiciously. Could it have been a basement? Max asked. Chris! says Rowan, brightly. Rowan Blake, all grown up. My God, mate, its been far too long. What was it? Petes funeral, I suppose. Hows it going? You good? Rowan, still mildly stoned, is considering his options. Theres a story here, though hes no idea what it is or what to do with it. The so-called womens-interest’ magazines still pay decent money for first-person exclusives and he’s considering testing the waters. He’s ghost-written a few himself in the past: lurid stories with headlines likeMy Boyfriend ate My Leg’ or ‘Grandad’s Cross-Dressing Shame There’s usually a decent yarn somewhere within the text. Sometimes they’ll take something with a bit of the supernatural to it. Messages from dead grandparents warning of impending transportation disasters is usually a good one. If he does get a chance to speak to Violet Sheehan, he’s pretty sure he can persuade her to talk about how her repressed memories of childhood trauma led her to seek out a Shamanic ceremony. A couple of pictures, someshow-don’t-tell anecdotes about what happened during their captivity and it could be the best part of 500-quid. He makes a note to check which of the gossip magazines has folded in the past six months and which of the commissioning editors at the remaining tiles has any legitimate reason to think him a prick. He’s left with a paltry collection, but he seems to recall there was a nice woman atW0-Man! magazine who had said she could always make use of proper old school journalists. He should probably buy Snowdrop an ice cream when they pay up. She’s done well. Stopped herself from butting in too often and even nudged the subject back on line when he wandered off. He wishes he were providing her with a less particular set of skills. Rivers stiffened for a moment before closing the blinds and flipping the switch for the overhead lights. Id never challenged him before. We all paid the price. Jeren too. You must not forget what she sacrificed. Her duty was part of her. A vital part. To walk away from it, to leave her brother ruling her people, even though she knew what he was... I think it would have broken her heart if it had not been for you..